“I would have been miserable on this trip if I didn’t have your friendship. Through you, I learned that the stage didn’t have to be so intimidating. When you narrow your focus on one person, sing for that one person, it changes everything. You get out of your head and can face your fears. You’re my one person, Joy. I’ll always sing to you.”

Dylan looked at her for a long moment, his gaze drifting over her face, memorizing every delicate feature. Shimmery ribbons of tears cut down her cheeks. She silently regarded him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. He wished that she would trust him enough to unburden whatever she was holding on to. He wished this wasn’t the end of the road for them and that he could at least have those three extra days to JFK to convince her to take a chance on them. But she remained frozen, locked in her fears.

Dylan pushed his door farther open and started to get out of the car.

“Wait!” She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t want to, but unless you can be honest with yourself about your feelings, I’m not sure—”

“I killed my sister.”

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28

BEFORE

Joy

Litchfield, Illinois

I killed my sister.

Only four words, yet so detrimental. They dictated her behavior over the course of eight years. They shaped her into the woman she believed she was today. A killer.

Until now, Joy had never spoken those words out loud. But she’d thought them every single day since the day Judy died.

She’d come close to confessing on plenty of occasions, like the morning after the accident when her parents came to see her in the hospital, or when Taryn visited her at home those initial days after she was discharged. Like the other day at breakfast when she almost told Dylan the entire story.

Working her way through Judy’s Route 66 Bucket List did make Joy feel better about what she’d done and helped her feel closer to her sister. But it also made the compulsion to confess unbearably difficult to ignore. The more she struggled to keep it a secret, the more the truth wanted out.

Dylan closed his door and settled back into his seat, angling his body toward her. She let go of his wrist, but he grabbed up her hand, laced his fingers with hers. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

His voice, a caress of words, brought on more tears.

He touched her chin. “It’s just us. Whatever you say in the car stays in the car. Got that?”

Dylan couldn’t absolve her guilt. But he’d asked her several times this past week to trust him. She did. Goodness, she’d jumped off a bridge because she trusted his word she’d be safe.